The Batfamily Chronicle-Drabble
by Magic Man of Malicious Mystery
Summary: Because there will never be enough Batfamily drabble series. Updated weekly... (Will include all the possible members, even barely related, of the Batfamily.)
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to the bat drabbles! So... just to get in to fanfiction and writing, we've decided to create daily drabbles. Updated daily! Hopefully... At least, I'm pretty sure it'll be updated daily until the end of winter break! :D Hope you enjoy!

-C and BAW

* * *

><p>"Can't say I didn't expect that," came a response, accompanied with a raised eyebrow.<p>

Another man gaped for a moment, "What… the fuck?" before hysterically laughing.

"Shut your mouth, Todd!" the child shouted in indignation, "As if you could do better!"

The pacifist in the room bit his lip to stop the urge to laugh and forced out, "Damian, calm down. It's not that bad…"

"I-It's totally that bad!" The laughing figure on the ground said through his laughter.

The first person leaned next to a nearby wall with a smirk, "I would say it's okay, but I'd be lying… Can't believe I'm siding with Jason."

The boy, Damian, scowled darkly as his hands neared his utility belt that he always had near him.

"Dami," the oldest boy said as he still struggled to get in control with his laughter. "Tim and Jay don't mean it. It's good, great even!"

Damian whipped his head to look in the other's reaction, and promptly whacked the elder in the head, "Stop lying, Grayson. I can see you laughing."

"Who, me?"

"Yeah, you, Dick." Tim snickered as he watched from the sidelines.

"B-but I'm not lying! I need to show this to Wally when he comes over next!" Dick let loose a few chuckles as he said, "It's great! I love it!"

"Yep, sure. A-amazing… Definitely Grade A writing right there!" Jason gave a few snickers as he declared, "For once, I'm actually proud of you!"

"Sh-shut up, Todd! I don't need your input!"

Tim smirked as he said, "And you need Dick's."

"Drake, shut up!" Damian glared.

Jason sat up and leaned back on to the couch next to him. "I need to read that again."

"Me too," Tim agreed as he reached over to grab the paper out of Damian's hands, "I can't get enough of it."

"DRAKE! GIVE IT BACK!" Damian shouted as he vaulted over the couch to grab it.

Dick immediately grabbed Damian back and tripped over Jason's legs, and as a result, toppled on to the coffee table.

A creak filled the room as the door opened slowly, with Tim leaning on the wall, Jason next to the couch and Dick and Damian on the table.

"What's going on in here…?"

"Babs!" Dick scrambled to get Damian off as he tried to get off the table.

Tim, leaning on the wall beside the door, handed over the paper he was holding. "Damian's writing assignment."

Damian jumped up off of Dick as he scrambled to grab the paper back.

Barbara skimmed the title.

'_The Inefficient Idiocy of Justice League Age Regulations'_

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><p>Look. Crack-ish. What is this. I don't know.<p>

I tried to include the moment where Damian's all like 'IT WAS THAT **** OF A TEACHER THAT ASSIGNED US WHAT TOPIC IN THE SUPERHERO COMMUNITY TO WRITE ABOUT! I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN SOMETHING ABOUT BATMAN!' But… it didn't really fit.

Well, yep. Sup. Is it good? I hope so... D:

-C


	2. Chapter 2

They pile the dirt on a closed casket.

Two of them, both little soldier boys who came back from the dead, are the only ones left of this family.

"Except for the girls," Jason muttered, "if you don't include the girls, then they'd skin us alive."

They shovel the dirt and wonder if this was what it was like for the others too, when their family had to watch them die and when Jason Todd and Damian Wayne were the names on the gravestones.

"I abided by the rules set by father and Grayson and Drake, but..." He's the son of the bat, but he's barely into his teenage years and his family is dead.

Death. He's half an 'Al Ghul' and that shouldn't apply to him, but it does because everyone is all too human.

"But they were wrong, got them killed, and we're going to show the world, huh, kid?"

The next day, Gotham (the world) burns.

(And this time, there are no survivors.)

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><p>I love killing people. -BAW<p>

This is absolutely amazing, eh? :DD BAW's writing is awesome! I think people agree with me. THE FEELS. -C


	3. Chapter 3

Because that was them. Robins that couldn't fly.

Dick was everyone's favourite. And Jason knows this as a fact of life.

Tim is the Robin that Stephanie never was. Could never become.

And Damian... well. He is the son of the bat. Ibn al-Xuffasch. Just like all the parallel worlds. The current Robin...

But just like that, Jason Todd and Stephanie Brown were dismissed... as nonexistent.

They were the forgotten ones. The Robins that never had a chance to fly.

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><p>...I didn't know where to put Carrie. D: And John Blake's too young to fit... besides, he was never 'Robin'... D:<p>

Sorry about the shortness... but didn't have much time today...

-C


	4. Chapter 4

"Well, well, well..." Dick grinned. "You have a LiveJournal, Jay? And you write _fanfiction _on it?"

"Fuck you! Give that back!" Jason yelled, arms outstretched and trying to reach the laptop on the bed, while Dick tackled him, laughing madly. "Don't say a fucking word!"

"Jason, _no one _uses LiveJournal anymore! It's all on and AO3!"

"Wait." Jason suddenly froze. "Are you telling me you have an FF _and_ an AO3? Talk about a fucking double-teamer. You have to take one and stick with it, Dickie-Bird. Don't tell me you post your NC-17 stuff on AO3 and keep all the PG-13 stuff on FF."

Dick laughed nervously. "At least I don't post NSFW! And put it under a cut, will you?" he said frantically as he found a LJ post where...well...

Dick had experience with naked bodies. But, no Jason. No.

"At least I don't use fucking and AO3. That's only for the newbie lameasses who don't know the difference between a lemon and a lime!"

"At least I don't use LiveJournal. That's for the _internet grandpas._"

Suddenly, Tim popped his head in through the door. "You're _both _internet grandpas. Please, Instagram and DeviantArt are where all the parties are at. FF is just for the twelve-year old kiddies who write Mary Sue OCs and OOC! AO3 is for the slashy pervs!"

"Drake's Instagram is plebeian dribble, not worthy to even flame. It's obvious that none of you are worthy of Father's name. You do not even have the dignity to acquire Tumblrs." Damian called from...the other side of the mansion.

"At least I tag my NSFW!" Tim shouted.

Stephanie-

Wait a second, where was everyone coming from?

Stephanie stepped in through the window, stretching slightly and yawning. "Honestly, Damian's right. Tumblr is what's hip nowadays. Go with the flow and move there."

"Preach!" Damian said, hi-five-ing her.

...

...

Jason and Dick gave each other long, questioning looks, as if not quite sure what had just happened.

"Well," Tim blinked slowly, "_That _was OOC."

...

"Master Bruce, what is your verdict?"

Cass tapped Alfred on his shoulder. "Wattpad."

Bruce smiled. "And that is why you are my favourite child."

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><p>In which everyone in the Batfam is a closet fanboyfangirl, obviously. -BAW

Pfft. The poor fourth wall. -C


	5. Chapter 5

Because of continuous struggling and daily clashes,  
>we easily get tired of life.<p>

Only these days, with the same circumstances, how long do we still have?

As heroes, we changed our attitudes and accepted each other.  
>We downplayed ourselves to give hope to other's dreams.<p>

Only these days... (how long do we still need...) are not important anymore.

If I only knew this earlier...

If dreams exist in reality...

Then I wouldn't put myself in the same place I am in now.

If I only knew this earlier...

If dreams exist in reality...

Then why did I have to hide behind my masks?

* * *

><p>This can be applied to your favourite heroes, anti-heroes... maybe not villains, but nonetheless. Here it is.<p>

This is like an applied translated song fic from a Mandarin song, that I forget the name of... Meh. It's beautiful though.

... I really don't feel like this was in any way on par with any of the other chapters... and because of that... I just kinda combined two drabbles in to one! Continuing on...

-C

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><p>Storm...<p>

There's a storm right now. Outside the window.

Crackling thunder...

Echoing...

Wh...where... am I?

Who... am I? W... who-

That's right...

I'm a Robin. Timothy Jackson Drake.

Son of the Drakes... Son of the Bat.

_"It's Wayne when I want a favour and a table at Bartese- and Drake when I look in the mirror."_

W-wha...?

That's me. Isn't it? I said that... didn't I?

"Who the hell are you?"

I whipped my head to the side to see- Wait. A wall. I was up against a wall...?

When was I sitting down?

A white figure appeared in the dark room.

_'Who the hell are you? Because... because Tim Drake would know better...'_

T-Tim Wayne... I'm Tim Wayne. Oh god... oh g-god...

What happened to my life...? What am I doing here...?

I need to get out. I need to get out!

Let me out!

I struggle to stand up, body flaring in pain everywhere.

Gasping, I reach a hand out. "Please..."

_"You're my brother... you'll always be there for me."_

Dick. That annoying little brat. Bruce. Alfred. Barbara. Steph... Jason.

Conner... Bart... Titans, everybody...

I-I'm Tim... Drake. And Tim Wayne as well.

Red Robin. Former Robin, partner to Batman. Brother to Nightwing, current Robin, (Red Hood).

Once again, I reach.

Fingers nearly skim to warmth of the figure... the- P-Pain...!

I lay there gasping.

But it was warm...

I reach again...

The lightning flashes and my vision goes blind. The thundering sounds give way to white noise.

The storm is over. I'm free.

* * *

><p>... Prompt: (The word 'weather'.) And then 3rd Robin. So... here it is.<p>

As well, the italics are actually quoting what Tim said in the comics. (From multiple different comics)

Still don't feel like any of these drabbles are going to ever compare with the one Broken Antler in Winter wrote... *le sigh* This is what happens when you have an amazing author for a partner... (*cringes* hope i'm not dragging her down...)

-C


	6. Chapter 6

SORRY. WE'RE PROCRASTINATING HUMAN BEINGS TOO. D:

-C and BAW

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><p>"Why the **** is it snowing?!"<p>

Don't get me wrong, I generally like the snow. But this is snow in Gotham we're talking about... in fall. It's practically a freaking storm. The rooftops are going to get slippery. And I sure as hell ain't taking a fall on my ass.

Well... if I go out, what to wear... Boots? What kind of shoes? I can't wear heavy-ass shoes! I mean, I do wear boots usually... but those are for combat!

To hell with it. I might as well stay in here with my manly dignity in tact rather than running stupidly out there like the Dickhead right now...

How the hell does he not slip on that-

PFFFFT. HE FELL. AHAHAHAHAHAHA...

I surrender! I've completely succumbed to laughter. This feels amazing... it's been forever since I had such a carefree laugh about my 'brother'.

Sombre already, huh, Jason? Man, I'm such a melodramatic douche. No, not douche... more like asshole... but meh, I'm proud of it.

I swear if I look back on the spy cam, he's going to-

... I'm dying again. Of laughter.

Blackmail complete.

I have enough reason to never go out in a snowstorm in Gotham... or at least on the rooftops.

* * *

><p>Prompt: The story is set during a snowstorm. The story takes place in the fall. The story must involve some boots or shoes in it. A character is enraged throughout most of the story. (From: Writing Challenge Generator - Seventh Sanctum)<p>

...I failed the last part of the prompt. D:


	7. Chapter 7

It's one of the quiet nights.

They're not the common sort of night in Crime Alley, but Leslie is glad for them. She thinks that maybe even Gotham can have a little peace once in a while.

There is some rest for the wicked, in a sense.

It's sudden when she gets shouted over by one of the nurses, who says, "Batman's here, with a kid!" It's the panic in the young girl's voice that snaps Leslie up. It has to be bad if someone who works in a free clinic in Crime Alley can have that kind of fear coloring her voice.

Leslie rushes to the room where the boy is in, and sees something that she can easily recognize through her years of experience, though she will never get used to it.

"Help," Batman says, "He's dying."

"He's not going to make it," she mutters, but she still will try. Even if he's choking, sputtering blood. Even if his arm is bent the wrong way. Even if he's maybe not much over ten and even if she is a doctor, even if she lives in the murder capital of the world, she doesn't think that a child's body can hold that much blood.

Leslie tunes it all out like she always has to.

Maybe it's only when she's finished, when the kid is resting on his bed with less than half a chance of waking up, that she notices Batman.

All pretenses drop.

"Bruce. Why did you bring a half-dead child to my clinic? What was that?" She's furious, furious that someone would do this to a child, furious that there's this look of guilt on Bruce's face, furious about the world and how it will never be right.

"His name is Richard Grayson. He's eleven years old, been living on the streets for the last two years." Bruce raised his head. "His parents were killed by the mob, and he ran away from a foster home. He was caught in the crossfire."

/"How?"/

"Two-Face."

* * *

><p>Two months later, when Dick Grayson is due to be released from the Gotham Free Clinic, he is adopted by Leslie Thompkins.<p>

She doesn't really know why she does it, because she's seen so many street kids and let them go off back there because she knew she couldn't help them all. She's seen so many, and she doesn't know why she's changing now. But he has a smile like the sun and if he's a dirty grimy little street kid, he's still a kid at heart despite the old age in his eyes, his bright blue eyes that remind Leslie so much of another little orphaned boy.

Maybe it's atonement, for what she couldn't do for Bruce Wayne.

Maybe it's responsibility, for a boy who was dying two months ago.

Maybe it's love, for Leslie Thompkins was always the motherly type.

* * *

><p>(INSERT AUTHOR NOTE HERE -BAW)<p>

Here's your fill of Leslie Thompkins! :D She CAN be considered part of the batfamily, so there's that. :D -C


	8. Chapter 8

**continuation from the previous chapter**

* * *

><p>Actually, Leslie is not all that surprised when Dick shows up hefting a young boy by a ragged collar. Dick is the rambunctious type, and she doesn't know how many times he brought back little stray kittens or puppies that she always manages to heave on some unsuspecting patient with the wallet to raise a pet. "Get the fuck offa me, you fucking creep!" The kid hollered like crazy and fought as hard as he could to get Dick to let him go. To no avail, of course.<p>

(Twice a week, Bruce Wayne would come visit Dick Grayson. What goes on inside the walls of Gotham Free Clinic? Self-defense training, apparently. Needless to say, Leslie did not approve.)

What does surprise Leslie is that it is three in the morning.

"This kid is a fucking boss!" Dick exclaims, grinning.

"Language," Leslie mutters offhandedly, still stitching some unconscious drug dealer from the last gang scuffle an hour ago.

"Oops, sorry Leslie," he mutters sheepishly, still holding on tightly to the boy, whose struggles became less dynamic, but was still swearing heavily under his breath. "Y'know where I found him, though? He was jacking the tires off of the Batmobile. The Batmobile! Of course, I pulled him away from the thing before our big friend in black came back from his beauty sleep. Balls of steel..."

* * *

><p>They learn that the child's name is Jason Todd. His father is long gone and his mother is six months into the ground of an overdose in the bathroom. He's an angry kid- boy- <em>person. <em>Crime Alley, born and bred, Gotham running through his blood (nothing like the flight in Dick's eyes, the road in his soul, and the need to travel on and on). He's a street kid in a way that Dick isn't, because Leslie knows that Dick's a little kid who had survival instinct and adapted, while Jason is a product of Gotham's hardly-loving embrace.

Dick is made of hardened tar and feathers, malleable and scarred and light all the same. Half the time he's a grinning little demon while the other half he's the angel, albeit an avenging one.

Honestly, Leslie had a reason for adopting Dick, because Dick was one of those ebullient, effusive, so _utterly _lovable children despite the demons he carried on his back.

She's not sure what to make of Jason, though, who's all blood and bone and spitting flesh with a scowl made of those things on the streets that she's been so lucky to only have half-glimpses of until the half-dead body is brought to the clinic. His skin is made of steel and his heart is made of tarnished gold and-

That's what Leslie sees: a whirlwind of rage and anger and unresolved issues and the darkness climbing in and-

A heart of gold that's too good for this city and too tarnished by it. _Gotham, she doesn't deserve him, _Leslie thinks, _Gotham doesn't deserve any of them. _It's this city, this rank city that smells of blood and puke and piss on the streets but somehow finds a way to make the homes smell like cinnamon (except when they don't, and they never did for Jason, did they?)

Leslie Thompson is not sure what to make of Jason.

So, of course, she takes him in.

* * *

><p>On the other end of the line, Alfred is...<em>amused. <em>

"So, old friend, are you starting a collection?"

Leslie Thompson, going on fifty, and completely, utterly horrified.

* * *

><p>Went off on a tangent but writing about Gotham blood is always my favourite thing... -BAW<p>

Pffft. Tis Jason. Definitely. XD -C


	9. Chapter 9

Because they care.

They still do care.

And that's what Jason unwillingly admits to himself. When they say it, it's clear that he doesn't accept it. But when he's alone...

Despite being stupid, outrageous, reluctant, and many other negative words, he somehow does care too.

About him caring, about them caring, and mostly about how both sides care for each other despite differences.

All of them care.

* * *

><p>I swear that has to be literally the shortest thing I've ever written for fanfiction... At least you'll know that this is the shortest possible thing you'll see from me? :) -C (Also, THANK YOU VERY MUCH TO EVERYBODY WHO REVIEWEDFAVOURITED/ALERTED OUR STORY! :D)

I'm willing to bet we have longer author's notes. Care to take me up on that, Cocoa? -BAW

HA! AN'S SHORTER. -C


	10. Chapter 10

There's a long, silent moment while Jason and the kid glare at each other in the clinic break room, before Jason turns to Leslie and asks, "Who the hell his he?" It's just that, Jason, being basically a live-in helper at the Free Clinic for the last three years, knows _every _single face that passes through the clinic on enough of a daily basis to not be horrifically injured while they are there, and this kid ain't one of them.

"Hey," Dick nudges quietly, whispering out of the corner of his mouth, "that's the Drake kid that Leslie said was coming by. His name's Tim or something, and he's here to see if the Drakes wanna fund Leslie's clinic or not. And cut out the staring, Jay." Jason blinks. "Don't call me _Jay,_ asshole," he hisses, "not in front of some rich brat."

The kid cleared his throat nervously, tugging at his tie- no, seriously, was this kid for real? "I'm, um, standing right in front of you, you know?" Leslie tries not to roll her eyes- Yeah, _duh _Jason can see it, even if she keeps on insisting that rolling eyes is only for children and adults don't pull that sort of shit, she still does it, and Jason is proud to know that he causes it sixty-two percent of the time.

"Timothy, this is Jason and Dick, my adopted sons. If you'd like, you could stay with them for your visit, or you could continue shadowing me through my day?" Leslie says pleasantly, though anyone with half a brain could figure out how pissed she was. Shit, it's the voice that means he's definitely gonna get a talk/scolding/glare of doom about this later.

Jason doesn't _mean _to do it, he swears, but he's a street rat to the bone with that prickling anger at those who were born with more that he can't even really turn off with Wayne- _knowing _that the man is Batman and patching him up when Leslie ain't around, so it leaks out sometimes.

The kid bites on his bottom lip and shuffles his polished black shoes. "Is it alright if I stay with them, or would it be better if I kept going with you, Ms. Thompkins?" And Jason sees it, he fucking _sees _it, the moment when Dickie-Bird and Les both _melt _because of the sincerity in the kid's eyes, and it's all Jason can do not to bang his head against the clinic walls.

Dick's grinning brightly, some of his damn infectiousness still present after living in Gotham, for fuck's sake, and takes Tim by the arm. "Of course it'll be alright. C'mon Jay, let's show Timmy around this place!"

Alright, alright, so when the hell did this kid become _'Timmy'_?

* * *

><p>Let's be real here, Dick's a sucker for the kids. It landed him with Jason, didn't it? He's fourteen, and Jay's just turned thirteen, and the kid standing awkwardly in front of them, trying not to chew on his nails (Dick's seen those signs before, in no one other than Raya...who he misses like a limb and can't really get back now...) can't be much more than nine. Well, actually, when Dick asks, Timmy says he's actually eleven (and a <em>half, <em>like it makes a big difference), so maybe Dick's not all that great at judging ages.

"Whaddya want to do now, Tim?" Dick asks after they finish the tour. "We have some video games Jay got offa some jerk by bluffing through his teeth in Texas Hold 'Em, and a board game Mrs. Jenkins let me borrow since her son's off in Metropolis getting an undergrad."

Jason sniggers at a thought. "Yeah, Dick-face over here's the one who can charm old grannies, but I'm gonna be a bigshot poker someday and rob everyone in this fucking city blind."

"_Language_," Dick chides absentmindedly.

"Fuck you," Jason snipes back.

Tim's eyes flicker around every part of the room, slightly jittery. The kid clears his throat again. "Um, can I- uh, we, can we play the board game?" At Jason's 'are you serious' look, Tim backs up defensively. "It looks interesting! I like Clue, and it's the only one I'm good at."

Jason rolls his eyes. "And here I thought only Golden Boy here plays board games in the twenty-first fucking century, but it turns out I'm wrong, huh?"

And, as it turns out, Timmy is _really _good at Clue.

* * *

><p>"Hey, look, it's Alfred!" Jason sits up suddenly. Dick laughs, just a little. Jason's probably itching to get as far away from the 'devilish game' that is Clue as he can. Alfred smiles serenely and holds out a few tupperwares of cookies, freshly baked and glorious.<p>

Dick could melt in them.

Alfred says the usual hellos, before turning his attention to Tim, who's trying as hard as he can to make himself seem really, really small. There's something sad there, Dick notices all of those signs of bad homes ever since that one crap foster home with the bastard who always told them to call him _Dad_, and this may not be a sign of abuse, but-

It's not a sign of a loving family, for sure. Dick thinks he's at least lucky with that, that he had a loving family before it was all torn to shreds, that he has the memories of popcorn and spun sugar to tide him over on the bad days. Trouble in paradise, huh? Being rich ain't always the answer to everything, but Dick already knows that from Bruce.

"Good morning. Mr. Drake, I presume?" Alfred asks, offering out a hand for Timmy to shake. Tim immediately falls into what Dick calls 'Billionaire Playboy mode', that is to say, an act. Tim seems familiar with the routine, so maybe it's for the better.

Dick _thinks _that Tim has to be pretty lonely, the way he clammed up when Jason asked him if he had any friends, or the way that he stopped halfway through professing that no one ever wants to play Clue with him. Dick _knows _that the family he's made for himself isn't quite perfect, with all the pieces of the fact that they have the goddamn Batman among them and everyone else playing background, but the family is warm and sometimes that's all that matters, so he hopes with all he has that he makes Tim feel welcome, because, fuck, that kid's a genius and a sweetheart rolled into one.

Later, he might eavesdrop on a conversation between Alfie and Leslie.

"My dear old friend, Leslie, when I observed that you were starting a collection, I was merely _joking._"

And Dick'll almost get himself caught snickering in the linen closet, while Leslie's face might turn completely and utterly terrified.

It's a good life, Charlie Brown.

* * *

><p>I love Dick. I want Dick. I need Dick. Cocoaflower's more of a Jason, and Tim is precious. Dick's a lot rougher than his canon incarnation, mostly because of his street kid days, living in Crime Fucking Alley (and yes I always imagine it with the caps), and hanging out with Jason all day. Next installment will probably look at their school time. -BAW<p> 


	11. Chapter 11

"Shut the hell up, Demon!" Jason shouted indignantly as he gave a glare at the other boy. Honestly, Jason would have been dying of laughter by now if it wasn't for... circumstances. And this was coming from the guy who had actually experienced death.

"No, you shut your mouth, Todd! This is the worst and most outrageously ridiculous thing that I have ever done!" Damian shouted back. With a glower growing steadily on his face, he muttered, "Despite your idiotic and scandalous acts, I would think this is also the most embarrassingly moronic act you have ever done in your life."_ Especially when I'm talking about a moron that was killed... _Were the unspoken words.

There was an evident scowl on Jason's face as he reluctantly agreed with Damian in the remaining silence. Even he knew when to surrender the argument.

Now one might be wondering, what exactly were the two batboys with the most fuck-you-attitudes complaining about?

The two boys looked over their shoulder, with annoyed and suspicious glances, at the great amount of people wandering around.

"Why did Father send us here?!" Damian hissed as he unconsciously scooted closer to his older companion, to avoid the big crowds of people. "Couldn't he have sent-"

Some whistles and catcalls sounded to their sides. "Nice dress!" One of the people shouted.

Damian was sure his face was as red as a tomato and was about to yell back, but was beat by the other beside him.

"Shut the fuck up, you sons of bitches!" With that out there, Jason grabbed Damian's arm and tugged him away from the main street of the convention, turning in to some small alley with vendors everywhere.

Damian yanked his arm away right after, as the bracelets he was wearing jingled together. "Ugh... this is atrocious."

Jason scowled deeply but did not say anything to continue. He swerved aside for incoming people as he headed towards a large building in the near distance.

They quickly passed by the food stands and several outdoor tables and Damian, with an amused glint in his eyes, could see Jason lifting his dress higher to prevent it from touching the ground as they practically ran through crowds of people.

By the time they got to the tall stadium, both cringed at the amounts of people that wore happy and relieved smiles on their faces... "How the fuck can people look so natural while crossdressing?" Jason muttered under his breath and Damian caught it.

"You practically are a natural at being a girl, Todd."

Jason's fingers twitched at the comment before deciding it wasn't worth it, when the 'demon' was the only companion he had there.

"In fact, you most possibly are female."

A glare was sent towards the younger there as they entered through one of the multiple doors.

As soon as they got inside, they were instantly surrounded by many people... most of them female... dressed as males. In fact, as far as Jason could see, he and the 'demon' were the only boys there.

Why the fuck did he agree to this again?

Oh right.

He didn't.

* * *

><p>First part. Possibly continued. I don't know. Depends if you people want more. -C<p> 


End file.
